


Ice Against

by aurokoi



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Lance (Voltron), Consensual Sex, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, I Tried, Ice Play, It's just porn yall, M/M, NSFW, POV Lance (Voltron), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Top Shiro (Voltron), Uhhhhh idk how else to tag this, booty shorts, lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:34:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26394976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurokoi/pseuds/aurokoi
Summary: Everything is so very, very hot. The day, the shorts that barely covered Lance's ass, Shiro's bare chest, glistening with sweat. So. Really. It's only a matter of time until one of them caves.
Relationships: Lance/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 161





	Ice Against

**Author's Note:**

> Popping bottles to me losing my sexy fic virginity!! Please be kind to me, I don't really know what I was doing. I hope you all enjoy it nonetheless!!
> 
> And hey,,, maybe give me a follow on twitter? (@aurokoi)

It’s mind-numbingly hot outside. The sun was already starting its descent under the horizon, sometime after 6 PM, but the day hadn’t broken at all. Instead, the evening was getting that much stronger, as if the sun was hell bent on going out with one last bang before switching places with the moon. 

Lance and Shiro were sprawled in different spots in their apartment, taking turns sitting in front of the AC as they tried to get _something_ done that day. Or, Shiro was trying to get things done, hair pinned back from his forehead with a few of Lance’s strawberry pins, and Lance was aimlessly scrolling through his Instagram feed. 

It was Shiro’s turn with the AC, so Lance was settled on the ground a few feet away in front of the coffee table, a desk fan that they’d taken out from their room sitting right on top, both shirtless; Shiro, in the loosest pair of shorts he owned, and Lance in the shortest, the edge cutting off just below his ass. 

“Shiro,” Lance whined for the tenth time that hour, the warm blast of air from the fan making his hair fly. “Is it time to switch yet?”

He could hear the steady click, click, click as Shiro’s hands flew over his keyboard. “Not yet.”

Lance peeked at Shiro through the grills on the fan. “You’re timing it, right?” he asked suspiciously. 

Shiro glanced at him over the frame of his glasses, some of the shorter tendrils of hair on his head escaping their hold from his clips to dangle over his forehead. He gave him a look. “I _promise,”_ he said, sliding his phone over to him. 

Tapping twice on the screen, Lance confirmed that yes, there was still 10 minutes left until they switched spots. 

Lance sighed and sent the phone back, resting his chin on the coffee table the fan sat on with a pout. “It didn’t even get this hot in Cardenas,” 

He stared at Shiro around the fan, no longer entertained by his social media. If it weren’t so hot, he would’ve found a way to weasel his way into Shiro’s lap and push away his laptop with a bat of his eyelashes, tired of seeing Shiro shirtless when he was on the other side of the room. He liked him where his hands could touch him. 

If he wasn’t scared of giving either of them a heat stroke he would’ve done it already, but unfortunately, the sun was determined to punish them, seemingly for every crime humanity had ever committed. 

Now, though, Shiro looked at him, eyes searching his face in concern. “Are you feeling alright?” 

Lance flashed him a lazy thumbs up. “Just feel like I’m two seconds away from melting,”

“I think we still have some lemonade in the fridge,” he said, pushing his laptop away and preparing to stand up. “Do you want some?”

Takashi Shirogane, everybody. Real life angel on earth. 

Lance nodded, watching the muscles over his shoulders dip and move at the action. “Please.”

Shiro nodded and got up, affectionately touching Lance’s cheek with the tips of his fingers as he passed him on his way to the kitchen. 

He heard the sound of Shiro’s steady tread over the tiles in the kitchen, the sounds of the fridge door opening, the cupboard opening and closing, and the soft thrum of his pulse under his skin. 

Sometimes he still had difficulty believing that _this_ \- the apartment, the city, Shiro - was his. That he woke up today to the sight of his boyfriend asleep on his stomach, one arm thrown over Lance’s chest and the other under his pillow, the strange white streak in his hair illuminated golden in the early morning sun. That he would wake up tomorrow to the same image. 

He pulled his phone towards him again, opening it up to some meaningless app that he hoped would help the time pass faster. Just as he was wondering where Shiro had gone, a glass filled with lemonade appeared in front of his nose, the ice cubes clinking against the glass. 

“Mm, thank you, babe,” Lance breathed, fingers curling around the blissfully chilled glass. He scooted over to the side so Shiro could take a break beside him, pressing the glass against the nape of his neck in hopes it would help his overheating body. “How much of the report do you have left?” 

“Not much now,” Shiro replied, settling down beside him and taking a sip of his juice. “Just the conclusion and then editing, should be done by tomorrow morning,”

Lance pouted, glancing at Shiro from around his lifted arm. “So it’s going to be a work night too?” 

“A short one,” Shiro promised, “It shouldn’t take too long.” 

Lance still grumbled, finally taking the glass off his skin so he could take a sip. The tangy sweetness grabbed at his throat, but the juice cooled him on the way down so he took another, eyes closing in pleasure. 

“Feeling better?”

“A little,” he allowed, eyes opening. He looked to the side to tell Shiro they probably should start dinner, but when he turned, Shiro was already looking at him, one half of him graced by the fiery glow of the sunset. The look in his eyes was far too familiar, just a smidge darker than his usual silver, but Lance didn’t know why it was there _now,_ of all times. Still, his stomach swooped in anticipation. “What?”

A finger trailed up his arm. 

Lance glanced down at it, goosebumps raising over his skin like it was a programmed reaction whenever Shiro touched him. He took a sip, staring at Shiro without giving anything away. 

“Lance.” 

And there it was, that current in the undertones of his voice that sounded like a storm approaching. Lance prepared himself to get doused in the rain when it finally got to him. 

Instead of responding, Lance slowly finished his juice, his eyes locked with Shiro’s as he raised the glass higher and higher until it was completely drained. He made a show of setting the glass on the table before tilting his head to stare at Shiro again. “Hmm?”

“How hot are you right now?”

Lance tried very hard not to smile. _“Very.”_

“Close your eyes.” 

And Lance did. Immediately, against his better judgement. 

He left them closed as Shiro got up, ears picking up on the sound of glass sliding over the coffee table and then footsteps walking away. There was a beat of silence that was broken by the glasses being placed in the sink, and then the fridge door opening before closing again. 

The world was stronger when his eyes were closed. Lance felt the air from the fan sliding over his skin, tickling his cheek when it made his hair move. At the same time, he could feel the sunset as it crept up his legs. 

He perked up when Shiro settled back down, tempted to open his eyes but also fearing that he’d ruin a nice surprise if he did so. 

“Keep them closed,” Shiro said softly.

Lance obeyed, because of course he did. 

Suddenly, something cold enough to make his breath hitch touched his shoulder, causing him to jerk away and his eyes opened reflexively in surprise. 

“What-“ 

Shiro held a ice cube in between his fingers, trails of water already sliding over his skin. 

“I’m helping you cool down,” he said innocently. 

Lance could feel a drop trailing over his shoulder blade as he let out a huff of laughter, already moving closer. “Sorry! I was just surprised,” He rubbed away the wetness on his back. “You could’ve at least warned me.”

He could tell that Shiro was fighting off a smile, the corners of his lips twitching. “But that takes the fun out of it,”

“True,” Lance allowed, folding his legs under him and leaning forward. “I thought you had a report to write?”

“Like I said, it shouldn’t take too long.” 

There was a few seconds of silence, Shiro gauging his reaction, and Lance staring back with hooded eyes. Eventually, Lance broke the silence with a soft voice, “Keep going.” 

Shiro had been waiting for that, it was obvious in how his hand rose again as soon as Lance said so. The ice cube touched the crook of his neck this time, and the burst of goosebumps was instantaneous over his skin. 

He shivered, feeling hot and cold at the same time, only now it wasn’t just because of the summer heat. 

The cube melted as it glided over his skin, down the length of his shoulder, over his arm, leaving behind streams of water that travelled over his chest. Shiro’s eyes followed the droplets, and Lance swore he could feel that too. 

“Eyes,” Shiro reminded, letting the remnant of the ice fall through his fingers and fall onto the floor. 

Silently, Lance closed his eyes, mouth slightly parted. 

All he got for a warning was a puff of air over his lips before Shiro pressed a soft kiss into him. Lance’s hands twitched, aching to run themselves over Shiro’s shoulders but knowing better since he hadn’t been given permission to do it. 

It was all he could do to not chase after Shiro when he pulled back, one of Shiro’s hands coming to rest on his hip. His body burned in the places the ice had touched. 

A sharp chill made his spine straighten when Shiro placed the next one just above the waistband of his shorts, rubbing it side to side as he let out a shaky breath. His hips tried to instinctively jerk back but were held in place by Shiro’s hand. “H-how many do you even have?” 

“There’s enough,” he replied vaguely, amused, dragging the ice up his stomach. Lance bit his lip, squirming just a little. Shiro slipped his thumb under the waistband. “Been watching you all day… _lounging_ around in these shorts, without a damn clue…” 

His voice sent shivers straight down to Lance’s dick, his tone heavy with need that Shiro kept so cleverly concealed until the last minute. “It was hot,” Lance said, painfully aware of the way his nipples hardened as Shiro’s hand made it to his chest. “And I didn’t want to have a heat stroke.” 

“Well, now you’re going to get a different kind of stroke.”

Lance dropped his head, bursting into a short peal of laughter. _“Oh my god,_ that was terrible-”

Shiro laughed too, which quickly turned into a yelp when he lost his grip on the ice cube. It hit Lance’s thigh before bouncing away. Lance broke his rule and opened his eyes when Shiro’s other hand joined his lonely hip and pulled him onto his lap. His legs settled on either side of him and his palms rested on Shiro’s bare chest to keep him balanced. 

“I thought it was sexy,” Shiro protested, grinning as he squeezed Lance’s hips. “You didn’t think so?”

“No, you dork,” Lance huffed, voice far too affectionate. “Everything leading up to it, though…” He gave him a look, hands smoothing up to his shoulders before he buried one of them in the soft hairs at the back of Shiro’s head. 

Shiro’s head fell back into his hand at his touch. “Want to keep going?”

Lance nodded, leaning forward so he could press a kiss under his jaw, his chest brushing against Shiro’s. “Yes,” he murmured against his skin. Then, in a very strategic whine, he added a breathless, “Please.”

The effect was immediate and observable in the way Shiro’s eyes changed, focusing intently on every movement Lance made, every brush of skin against skin. Shiro’s hand left him to grab something at his side, and when Lance looked over, he saw a bowl filled with half-melting ice cubes. He bit back a smile before his lips were back on Shiro’s neck, seeking out the little sensitive patch of skin just above his pulse. Shiro’s head fell to the side when he found it, a soft sigh escaping his lips. 

He was more prepared for the ice to touch him this time because Shiro hugged him to his chest, and trailed his finger down the length of his spine to mark its path before even touching him with it. Lance let out a soft moan, arching his back against Shiro, equally as affected by the cold and as he was by Shiro’s hand, which grabbed a handful of his ass and squeezed. 

Lance’s lips left his skin so he could rest his forehead against Shiro’s shoulder. “Feels good,” he whispered, rocking his hips gently, which earned another broken breath from Shiro. 

As Shiro made a tantalizing display of dragging the ice cube over the full span of his back, water gliding down the length and wetting his shorts, Lance reached to the side and grabbed a cube for himself. He pushed it over the swell of Shiro’s bicep, and Shiro’s movements slowed. 

Ice over Shiro’s shoulders… down his chest… to the waistband of his shorts…

He slipped his hand under, and palmed his bulge, eyes trained on the way colour rose sharply to Shiro’s cheeks. 

“I thought I told you to keep your eyes closed?” Shiro said roughly, shivering at the contact between the ice and his cock. 

Lance smiled slyly, moving his hand back and forth. His eyelashes brushed his cheek. “They are.”

Shiro kissed the smirk off his face, pressing the ice cube against one nipple and holding it there. Lance shuddered and couldn’t help the hiss that pushed past his lips, hips grinding down against Shiro’s. 

“Baby,” he whined, unsure of whether to arch into his touch or away, “please…” 

“Please what?”

_“Touch me properly,”_

“Hands up.”

His hands flew to Shiro’s shoulders immediately, discarding the ice cube. Shiro gave his one nipple reprieve but immediately turned his attention to the other, rubbing it in slow circles over his skin. 

“What do you want?” he whispered. 

Lance squirmed in his lap. “Fuck me,” he purred with a heavy breath. “Please, Shiro.”

Lips touched his neck as Shiro let the cube fall to the side to lift Lance’s hips enough to slip his shorts and his underwear over the swell of his ass. Rivers of water crept over the newly exposed skin, his released erection sliding between them. Lance didn’t have much time to prepare himself, just enough to squeeze Shiro’s shoulders, when he felt his hands kneading his cheeks. 

He mewed in pleasure, backing into his hands as Shiro pulled his cheeks apart and ghosted the pad of a finger over his hole. 

“B-Bedroom,” he gasped, and Shiro wrapped an arm around him to hold him against his chest as he shifted and rose to his feet. Lance wrapped his legs around his waist, doing everything he could not to grind against Shiro’s bare stomach. 

The door to their room opened and closed and before he knew it, Lance was being gently laid on his back on the mattress, blissfully cool from disuse against his feverish skin. Shiro came right in between his legs and tugged on his shorts so he could pull them off. 

Shiro kissed down the length of his leg as the fabric slipped off, doing the same on the other side while Lance watched him with a gently quirked lip, his hands running up the side of Shiro’s thighs. 

Lance liked it rough, but there would never be a day where he didn’t feel like this when Shiro took his time with him. When his touch was intimate and appreciative and made just for _him._ He hummed, a warm sound from his chest that pulled Shiro’s eyes down to him. 

When the shorts were finally tossed to the side, Shiro bent forward and kissed him like he wanted to be kissed, full of want and desire and a fervor that was only getting more insistent. Lance wrapped his arms around him, so ready to lose himself in whatever Shiro did to him. 

Eventually, he got Shiro’s shorts around his knees, before those too were kicked to the side, leaving him gloriously nude. Lance lifted himself onto his elbows, pushing up until he was on his knees and pressed against Shiro. 

He trailed a hand up his thigh until he got to Shiro’s cock, stroking it a few times and watching Shiro’s eyes glaze over before Lance backed up and sat him down with a hand on his chest. 

Laying down between his thighs, he left a trail of kisses up the insides where the skin was sensitive, leaving the path behind him reddened and ready to bruise. 

He held his cock in one hand when he finally got to the base, looking up at Shiro through his lashes as he opened his mouth a little wider. The member twitched under his lips as he made his way up to the tip before wrapping his entire mouth around it. 

Shiro’s moan was heavenly in his ears as he swallowed as much as he could, sliding over his tongue until it hit the back of his throat, and even then he wasn’t all the way down on the first try. 

“You’ve got such a pretty little mouth, Lance... Look at you…”

And _oh,_ did that hit just right. He closed his eyes and bobbed his head, sucking him off until his nose brushed against the little hairs over his groin. It was then when he felt Shiro’s hands slide through his hair, guiding him through his movements as he slowly began to move his hips into the warm cavern of Lance’s mouth. 

Lance let his head remain in place as Shiro fucked into his mouth, eyes watering as he tried not to choke. And just when he thought he couldn’t take anymore, Shiro pulled him off himself and he took a staggering breath, mouth wet with saliva. 

He swallowed thickly, trying to catch his breath as Shiro cupped his cheeks and rubbed away the moisture in his eyes until he gave him a nod, and he went down again. Dragging his tongue from the base all the way to the tip, sloppy, just like Shiro liked it.

“On your stomach for me.” 

The deep edge to Shiro’s voice made Lance’s cock twitch as he did as he was told, gulping a breath as he pulled off and gathered a few pillows. He slid down, and lifted his ass into the air in front of Shiro. 

There was the sound of Shiro reaching into the bedside drawer to grab the lube, and the sound of the drawer closing. He squirt some of the liquid onto his hand, and some onto Lance’s ass, slicking up both his fingers and Lance’s hole. 

“Relax,” Shiro whispered, and Lance let his back arch, his belly touching the mattress. He groaned as he let the tip of his finger slip inside, “Fuck…”

Lance smiled and wiggled his hips. “Like what you see?”

“Always,” Shiro breathed, kissing one cheek and pulling the skin between his teeth. “So fucking beautiful,”

Lance bit his lip, moaning. “Just for you,” 

“Just for me.” 

Shiro eased in one finger, slipping it in and out slowly as Lance mewled below him, desperate for more. One by one, Shiro added more fingers until he was four in and knuckle deep, pressing against his walls as he spread him open. 

“Shiro, ah-!”

“Feel good?

Lance nodded against the pillows, eyes screwed shut as waves of pleasure coursed through him. “S-So fucking good.”

Shiro continued to loosen him up, using the other hand to reach between his legs and pump him to full hardness, metal thumb passing over the head and collecting the precum off the tip. 

When Lance felt he was ready, or when the waiting became too much, he groaned out, “More.”

And the fingers obediently slipped out of him, his hole clenching around empty space, eager for something else, something heavier. 

Shiro squirted more lube onto him before tossing aside the bottle. Rubbing it onto his member, he gripped one of Lance’s hips as he came up behind him, teasing his entrance with the tip of his cock. “Ready?” 

Lance nodded again, wiggling more insistently. 

Shiro chuckled and steadied his hips, and just like that he was pressing into Lance’s tight, wet heat with a moan. 

Shiro was _huge;_ filling him up so well he felt his mind wipe clean of everything but Shiro and the cock that was close to splitting him open. He lifted onto his elbows, gasping. 

“Oh, Shiro, fuck…!”

Shiro’s hand smoothed up his back, easing him back facedown. “Almost…” 

Not for the first time, Lance was sure that if Shiro went any deeper, he would hit his stomach. His toes curled as he let out a honey-sweet whine, pressing his face deeper into the pillows and gripping onto the material with his fingers. 

He felt the back of his thighs bump against Shiro, and suddenly Shiro was at the side of his face, peppering kisses into his shoulders as he adjusted around his thick girth. 

Then, he began moving, and Lance swore there was nothing else in the world but this. 

Shiro fucked him softly at first, until Lance gasped out a broken, “Faster,”, and the speed of his hips snapping into him steadily picked up, hitting that sweet spot that made Lance see stars with every thrust. 

The sounds coming from Lance’s mouth was a never ending mixture of curses and breathless, “Faster, please, don’t stop, fuck, you feel so good, Shiro-”’s. The grip of Shiro’s fingers on his hips was relentless and would leave bruises, but god Lance didn’t care, he didn’t care, if it meant that Shiro would keep fucking him like this. 

Sweat gathered over his brow and over his back at the pace, every stroke sending shivers of pleasure coursing through him, dragging him under a spell.

The quiver in his gut built and built until he was needy for that one lucky thrust that had him seeing white. 

This close to release, Lance was a ragdoll at Shiro’s disposal, just like they both wanted, but it didn’t stop him from reaching behind with unsteady fingers to pull Shiro’s wrist and bury his hand in his hair. 

Immediately, the grip tightened, dragging a mewl out from the back of Lance’s throat, high on pain and pleasure. He was pulled up against Shiro’s chest, his hands stumbling to find something to hold onto before grabbing the headboard as his head was wrenched back, Shiro’s lips right at the crook of his jaw. 

His breath was _fire_ against him, “You like having your hair pulled like that? Like being fucked so hard you can’t speak?” 

And well, fuck, what was he supposed to do but nod and moan like a damn pornstar?

Shiro was steadily losing his composure, and his desperate thrusts indicated his was just at his tipping point. “Use your words, Lance.”

Lance was so, so close, and his hungry tone made him open his eyes to look directly at Shiro, to show him that he was doing such a good job, that Lance felt _so good._

“Y-Yes!” Lance cried, dragging his nails over Shiro’s skin, “Fuck yes, I love it. Fuck, Shiro, oh, fuck, fuck, fuck-!”

He was cut off with a bruising kiss, Shiro managing three deep thrusts before he bottomed out, coming right inside Lance with a moan so deep that it, combined with the aftershocks of his prostate getting plowed, pulled Lance’s own orgasm out from him. Lance keened into his mouth, desperately grabbing for him. 

Shiro’s arms wrapped around him as they rode out the high, and Lance’s head fell back limply against his shoulder, breathing unevenly, eyes shut. He slid out of him and lowered them both until he was comfortably holding Lance against his chest, kissing his cheek. 

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, voice trailing fingers up Lance’s body.

He shifted to turn around and pressed his forehead against Shiro’s, clambering heart rate slowing and leaving behind a buzz that made his brain all fuzzy. 

Just like before they began, Shiro’s kisses were soft, as were the hands massaging his body. 

Lance cupped both of Shiro’s cheeks and when he regained his voice said, “That-” He kissed his lips, “-was amazing…” Letting out a shaky laugh, he undid the strawberry clip in Shiro’s hair and shook out his fringe. “Fuck, I love you so much.”

Shiro glanced at the clip in his hand with an amused smile, high cheek bones still flushed a cherry red. “I love you too,” he said, and kissed Lance’s knuckles. “Shower?”

Lance nodded, still a little out of it, and let Shiro clean off the insides of his legs before following him into the bathroom.

He couldn’t tell when it happened, but the day had suddenly cooled off, no longer hot enough to feel as if there was no such thing as wind. Outside, the sun was barely peeking over the horizon. 

As Shiro turned on the shower and Lance inspected the finger shaped bruises on his hips through the bathroom mirror, he said, “I think we need to use the ice more often...” 

“There’s still a few more months of summer,” Shiro said by way of agreeing, looking over with a smirk. “I think it’ll come in handy.”

**Author's Note:**

> Shiro fucking Lance in the strawberry clip made me laugh because of course he would. Definition of sexy dork. 
> 
> If you liked it, I'd appreciate it if you left a kudos or a comment!


End file.
